Urban Dictinary vs. Webster 1

What better way than to spend an evening, than to enter random words and phrases into Webster's Dictionary while Rachel realizes that she's working every holiday again this year. What the fuck people! Another year of dividing and conquering as we embark on another journey trying to squeeze visits with both families in half the amount of time. Don't worry though, she's off Groundhog Day, Abraham's Birthday, Cinco De Mayo (if she doesn't switch off for her birthday) and my personal favorite, the Chinese New Year's Eve. we are so skipping the Christmas tree this year and replacing it with one of those giant dragons.

Obviously, most of the words I searched for do not appear in the dictionary. Perhaps I should reevaluate my resolutions and make my new goal to add words to the dictionary. How do you go about doing so?

Anyway, enough of the tangent more of the goods. I entered each of the following words into the search engine and Webster attempted to help me find a better spelling suggestion. Since Webster obviously failed me, I decided to find the definition using Urban Dictionary, a place where you can find the proper definition to ass clown or needle dick.

Ass Clown - one, who, through no fault of his parents conception, is a skid mark in society's collective underwear.

Did you mean: scallion, scullion, Ashqelon, ash can, slowdown, set down

The looser calling my tech support hotline is a real ass clown.

Fuck Tart - The solid state of vaginal excretions that are expelled during a queef.

Did you mean: folk art, futurity, factorage, filtrate, facture, factory, Fugard, factorial, fucker, factor, flatcar, futuro, aftercare

I asked for a toaster strudel and she gave me a fuck tart.

Text-hole - Someone who texts on their cellphone in really inappropriate places, like movie theatres, conerts, plays or during sex.

Did you mean: textile, textual, Tuxtla, texte, totalize, The Delta

We were humping away, and she started texting her friend. She was a certified text-hole.

Dog Face Gremlin - A really ugly girl you pick up at a bar when you are in a slump and just want some ass.

Did you mean: They couldn't fix this word. Silly Webster. I think you got egg on your face.

Steve and James got shitfaced at the bar last night and slump busted with a couple of dog faced gremlins.

Sausage Fingers - A person with short, chubby, fat fingers.

Did you mean: Webster failed me again on this one.

That chick over there's got some big sausage fingers. 

Chub Rub - When the skin between a fat person's thighs rubs together while walking causing a mild irritation between their legs.

Did you mean: Cuba libre, clubroot, colubrid, cupboard, clubber

I thought that chicken head had some cooties but it was a mad case of chub rub.

Stinky Dick - To have sex with two different girls without washing, usually without the second one knowing.

Did you mean: sitting duck

I'm not sure she would have blown me if she'd known I had stinky dick.

On a personal note, Momma Dukes loves calling Dave "Stinky Dick." For the past few years, that's the only name she has referred to him by. Perhaps, all these years she has been giving me subliminal messages that my father was a cheater...

Pentatomoidea

About a year ago, the state of New Jersey became infested with Pentatomoidea, better known as the stink bug. These tiny little fuck-tarts have glands in their thorax which produces a foul smelling liquid to deter potential predators or when they are handled carelessly. The myth that stink bugs stink when you squished them is actually wrong. The fuck-tarts release their foul smelling liquid moments before they are squished, when they realize that their puny internal organs are about to squeeze out of their eye sockets.

During the fall, our apartment building became infested with stink bugs. The fuck-tarts were everywhere. At first, Gerald thought stink bugs were fun and he would go chasing after them and smacking them across the apartment. The problem was, that the fuck-tarts released their stinky butt juices in the apartment, leaving a foul, musky, rotting fruit smell that was quite nauseating to walk into. As quickly as I was flushing them down the toilet, another ten would appear from thin air to replace their fallen comrade.

War was declared between the Human Inhabitants and the Stink Bugs. I should define Human Inhabitants as solely my responsibility to rid our habitat of the rancid ass-turds, since Rachel squirmed and ran away from them with her arms flailing. After a week into battle, I quickly found the location of their entrance, they had laid eggs in our window. Hundreds of rancid bugs covered our window, sneaking into the apartment through a small crevice between the window and the exhaust fan in the window.

I took a large freezer bag and a Kleenex tissue (I sure as hell wasn't going to pick any of the fuck-tarts up with my bare hands) and began to grab the bugs from the window and place them into the bag. The bag quickly filled up with rancid creatures who began to excrete their foul smelling liquid onto each other. As I picked them off the window, about ten to twenty rancid ass-turds would dive bomb for my ankles, biting at my skin, leaving tiny little red pin pricks all over my legs. After collecting all accessible stink bugs, I closed the freezer bag up and threw into the trash can.

With the exception of a few Stink Bugs who found refuge inside our apartment, the war between Human Inhabitants and Stink Bugs appeared to be over...at least I thought it was over...

Over the last two weeks, I began to develop an itchy red rash on my legs, which consisted of several patches of tiny little red pin pricks. The patches only appeared from my knees to my ankles, and I couldn't figure out what the hell was causing it. I thought it was dry skin, so I bought new soap, in-shower moisturizer, and cocoa butter, but found no relief.

After several more days with no relief in sight, Rachel and I headed to bed. I nestled myself under the blankets and was moments away from sleep time, when I felt a strange sensation on my leg. At first, I thought it was Rachel's shoelace on my leg and began to debate the sanity of my fiancée since she wore her sneakers to bed. My internal debate was interrupted when the sensation began to move, and I jolted upright with the realization that something was crawling on my leg. I pulled the covers off and low and behold, a fucking fuck-tart was crawling on my leg. The little fungus had been making my legs a midnight snack for the last two weeks. There was a moment of direct eye contact between the two of us, and I think the little stinky beast even gave me the finger at one point.

Of course, he joined the rest of his fallen comrades, drowning in a whirlpool of toilet water. I seriously hope Raid makes a Stink Bug murdering spray before next fall so that I'm prepared for next years war. In the meantime, I'm going to take Rachel to a psychiatrist to find out why she's been wearing her sneakers to bed. Silly girl.